Lost leader
by glanmire
Summary: Kili shoots Dwalin accidentally, Thorin gets lost and Bilbo enjoys himself.


BILBO.

Kili wasn't that good with an arrow. Yes, he was competent for a dwarf, and quite a bit better than Bilbo, but his aim wasn't perfect.

That was the excuse he pleaded when, using a nearby tree as a practice, he managed to send an arrow in completely the wrong direction, and it embedded itself deep in Dwalin's buttocks.

Thus had started probably the most disgusting yet hilarious afternoon Bilbo had ever had, and he had spent time with trolls.

The arrow had sunk right through the boiled leather, furs and undergarments, the works, and into the flesh.

Thorin excused himself immediately - to laugh at Dwalin of course, but he was too good of a leader to do it to his face.

Five minutes later, when the roaring had quietened down a tad, Bilbo was still trying to stifle his own laughter.

Dwalin lay glowering on his stomach on the forest floor, and Óin, the only one with both a bit a medical experience and also the nerve to come near Dwalin when he was in such foul form, attempted to get it out.

Kili kept looking at Bilbo and Fili, all innocence, his eyes smiling under his brown locks, and the second they made eye contact they'd all start laughing again.

Balin, who was about the only one actually concerned about Dwalin's welfare, Dwalin himself included, shooed the three of them to a distance where they watched as Óin took out a shiny pair of scissors from wherever he'd been hiding them and began to cut away the layers around the arrow.

"He's cutting him a butt-flap. Could be convenient." Fili managed to get out in all seriousness, without infliction or change in tone, his face blank, and then burst out laughing with the rest of them.

It was when Óin called for butter, to ease the arrow head out from the buttocks that Bilbo and the brothers could not take it anymore and went for a walk, following Thorin's example.

They came back some while later to a camp that looked like it was just about ready to repress any memories made today. Dwalin lay on his side, evidently too tender to sit down properly just yet.

Kili made his way over to the older dwarf, and did his duty.

"Dwalin, I am terribly sorry for what happened today, truly. If there is someway I could repay you-"

"Let him shoot you in the ass, see how you like it-"

"Smack some sense into the Princeling."

"He should reimburse you for injuries"

"If he asked you to grow a beard you'll be in right trouble."

Everyone stopped shouting suggestions, and turned to look at Ori, who was quickly going red at his own out-burst.

Kili stared him down, more serious than Bilbo had ever seen him.

"I keep it short so not to impede my archery, Ori. It is a choice."

Ori, who looked like he had just wanted to fit in and now desperately regretted his outburst, nodded. Kili glared at him one more time and turned back to Dwalin.

"I am in your service, Master Dwalin" he said with a twitch that looked like an attempt at a bow.

Dwalin lay flat, his eyes closed. The whole camp waited with baited breath but there was no change. Fili nodded at Kili who spoke again.

"Right. Umm, let me know if you think of anything."

Pause. There was no response. Kili and Fili scuttled off as fast as they could, as if trying to outrun Dwalin's revenge.

It was another few hours before any one thought to see where Thorin had got to. It was even later, turning dark, the light leeching out of the sky rapidly when they finally spilt into groups and began a search.

It was the most unorganised Bilbo had ever seen the Company, with squabbles breaking out and no one with a voice deep enough to quench them and just cut through the nonsense, as Thorin would have.

Eventually they broke off into the old groups to go search.

Thorin didn't approve of brothers always going together - not in the least because he didn't have one of his own anymore and that meant being invariably stuck with Bilbo, not all- but what he said was that when you worked with your brother you were likelier to slack off, and a bit of healthy competition was good.

Bilbo noticed that Dwalin was not going over to Ori, like he was meant to, or Balin to Kili. He reckoned that Thorin had deliberately picked the groups just to irk people, except Bilbo was normally put with Bofur, which he was very happy with, and he wondered how on earth they managed to get away with that.

He saw Bofur slide away with Bombur and Bifur quietly followed them, but that was to be expected. If Bilbo had a brother and a cousin here, he'd spend some time with them too. He would.

The dwarves disappeared like smoke into the forest, and after a moment Bilbo got ready to leave too.

He supposed that someone should guard their supplies but he did not want the others to come back and find him sitting quite contentedly on his backside and to have accusations of laziness thrown at him. No, he would go find their fearless leader, in just a moment.

First though, he needed to make a makeshift torch. There was no point going into the forest blind.

He grabbed a branch and stuck some kindling on top, and wrapped the segment under that with a rag that he had soaked in water, and then lit the kindling.

It worked surprisingly well, and at least it wouldn't burn his hand off. Bilbo then set off into the forest, grumbling about how ridiculous this was.

It was black like ink in the forest and Bilbo's torch was barely illuminating his own face anymore when he heard a voice.

"That light of yours could draw enemies."

Bilbo did not the patience for Thorin's insults.

"Well it drew you too, now didn't it? Even though I honestly don't know why I bothered. C'mon, we'd better get back to camp."

"Do you know the way back?"

Bilbo huffed. "Can't be that hard. We'll make it back in no time."

They did not find their way back.

They did walk some more, for another good hour or so, but it was so dark that it was impossible to tell which direction they should go.

They both knew they were lost and yet did not want to face the reality of the situation, not until Thorin suddenly slid down what was presumably an embankment, though it was difficult to tell in the dark.

Bilbo went after him but hung back a little; he heard Thorin take out an axe and swing it into a tree then pull it out and hack at it again, grunting.

Bilbo did not want to get in between Thorin and his axe - the dwarf definitely needed to work out some of his anger issues, and there were no convenient elves or orcs around for him to fight and that certainly was one adventure Bilbo was not volunteering for- and so he gratefully sunk to the ground and closed his eyes.

It was about past midnight yet a long way before dawn, and Bilbo had never been so cold. His teeth chattered, his bones felt shattered and his skin hurt to touch.

He had pulled down a few leafy branches and made a shabby shelter, but it was impossible to do any better in the darkness.

He couldn't see him, though they sat not inches from one another, but Bilbo knew Thorin was awake, as usual. He wondered if that was why the dwarf was so cranky all the time, and if all he needed was a good sleep and he'd be perky and chirpy as his sister-sons.

No, he couldn't picture that. No one could be as content as Kili.

"So, how did you get lost then?" he asked, thinking maybe conversation might pass the time.

Thorin sighed. He tended to sigh a lot around Bilbo.

"Do not mock me, hobbit."

"I wasn't, I swear, I was just wondering if there's any reason it keeps happening to you."

There was a long silence, and Bilbo thought maybe Thorin was electing to ignore him again.

"When you live under a mountain", Thorin said suddenly, "there are any number of passageways and caverns, yet I never lost my way in Erebor. I think it is that I simply do not care enough, and do not take in the details of my surroundings anymore. One forest is very much like the other to me. I could learn to navigate this particular stretch, but why bother? We will be gone tomorrow and the memory will be no use to me."

"That's actually- that's a fair point."

Thorin evidently did not feel the need to say anything else.

Bilbo sighed and closed his eyes. Sleep had to take him eventually, surely.

THORIN

Dawn crept into the sky like a thief, as quiet as the burglar beside him. Thorin knew that they would be able to find their way now - or at least Bilbo would- as the light finally came, yet he let the hobbit sleep on, just for another few moments.

Bilbo was an utterly silent sleeper, unlike dwarves, although his mouth did hang open slightly, but in an endearing manner.

Thorin had not slept- someone needed to keep guard, they were utterly defenceless out in the open like this, and he had admittedly dulled his axe earlier in his anger- but Bilbo had nodded off some hours ago.

Thorin wore his furs and boiled leather on top of all his other layers, and the hobbit had shivered as he slept, so he had shrugged off his furs a few hours ago and unceremoniously dumped them on top of the hobbit, who was weak and clearly suffering in the cold. Let it never be said that Thorin Oakenshield did not take care of the members of the Company.

Bilbo stirred under the furs eventually, and it was a sight to behold. He was lost in them like a child wearing a giant's robe.

"Are these - why am I- Thorin?"

"I would appreciate if you could find the camp again now that it is bright." He said, standing up. His back ached from being propped against a tree all night.

"Right, yes, of course." Bilbo said, and squinted.

"Well if the sun is that way then-"

Thorin let him figure it out. He picked up his furs and threw them on, silently appreciating the warmth. It was morning but still bitterly cold out.

"Thorin?" Bilbo asked again, and he realised that he had lost himself in his thoughts. He would undoubtedly suffer for the lack of sleep throughout the day.

"Yes. Lead the way."

They walked, and there was little to say but Thorin didn't mind.

They reached camp about two hours later.

Thorin had expected barbed comments and pointed looks, and he even had dreaded laughter, and as they walked in, he heard the laughter alright, but it was not directed at him.

It was his sister-son, Kili.

Óin held the lad's long hair in his hand, and was about to take the scissors to it when Thorin spoke up.

"Explain."

"Oh Uncle, there you are." Fili glanced at him briefly, uninteresed in anything but the spectacle unfolding before him.

"My brother is just about to undertake a haircut."

Thorin knew that Kili took pride in his hair, and that there was something suspicious at play here, but he honestly could not care less.

"Okay" he said weakly, and made his way over to his bedroll. He knew they needed to leave, to move on, but he just needed a minute.

Thorin lay down and he slept. He slept for ten hours.


End file.
